Last Day in Delhi

One more bus ride to bring me back to Delhi and the end of my trip. It was an overnight ride and as we sped through the night, we passed tiny houses on the edges of fields, and shanty shacks lining the roads. No electricity except the glow from TV sets as locals crowded around to watch the cricket finals. Doesn’t matter what happens in the day, there’s always time for sports at the end.

We arrived at the Old Delhi train station around 6am. Too early for having to keep defenses up against the scammers but it was necessary to get to my autorickshaw. I got off the bus, grabbed my backpack, and was immediately surrounded by men yelling, Madam! Madam!, everyone trying to get me to take their taxi. I pushed through on my way to the prepaid booth when a little man planted himself firmly in front of me, stopping my path. “Madam, where are you going?” he shouted. I answered, “To the prepaid booth.” He yelled back, “There is no such thing, Madam. You should come with me.” So I asked what the booth was and he responded it wasn’t what I thought it was. I kept moving, almost stepping on him for all the times he tried to stop me with his body. He kept yelling there was no such thing as a prepaid both, and even as I got to the booth, asked for my voucher and passed the seller my money, the little guy kept throwing his arm in front of me. As soon as I got my taxi ticket, he shrugged his shoulders and stomped off to find his next victim.

I managed to get to my hotel and check in in time to get a free breakfast. I had a shower and jumped into bed to sleep off the last few days in air-conditioned bliss. Afterwards I had to organize my next day’s transport to the airport. Still in cheap mode I was determined to find the city bus that went directly there from somewhere near Connaught Circle according to the Lonely Planet. I walked into the centre in search of this bus and got sidetracked by some shopping. As I walked along I heard a young voice next to me, “Would Madam like a necklace?” I looked down into the dirty face of a street kid with strings of beaded necklaces looped over both arms. I said “No” and kept walking. He kept pace with me and said, “Madam wants, yes?” “Madam doesn’t want,” I responded. But he kept at it, and started smiling at which point I started laughing because he was very cute and trying to be persuasive. I told him to bug off and turned the corner into a Bangladeshi street where refugees sell different crafts. They were almost as persistent as the kid and my attention was finally caught by the beaded edges of saris. As I started bargaining with one of the ladies for 7 metres of fringe, all of a sudden a voice said, “It’s a good price, Madam. You should take it.” The kid had followed me and taken me on as his mission. I thought why not, used his help to negotiate a final price, and then told him if he wanted to hang out he had to be useful and help me find this bus. We spent the next hour looking for the bus only for me to conclude it was only a legend after all and I’d have to take the subway to get to the main bus station. By this time I’d found out the kid’s name was Sami, he’d taught himself English by talking to tourists, his mom made the necklaces, and his life was almost identical to the little boys in Slumdog Millionaire. When I got to the subway entrance he said goodbye as they’d wouldn’t let him in there. I ended up buying two necklaces in the end and getting a promise from him he’d meet me the next day so I could buy him an ice cream. No success at the bus station either so an afternoon chasing shadows once again.

I went back to my room, watched crappy TV and enjoyed more air-con before venturing out to the hotel I originally stayed at 3 weeks earlier to negotiate a cheap cab to the airport. The clouds came in and the skies opened up to pour down for the first time since my arrival. I stood in the middle of the street with everyone else, face turned upwards, arms out, and welcomed the cool water on my skin. The street turned to mud and we all ran for cover. I eventually made my travel arrangements and returned to my room for one last sleep in India.

The next day I was determined to find something beautiful in Delhi, a city I find ugly, loud and dirty. Everyone said go to the Lodi Gardens and they turned out to be paradise in the midst of chaos. Cool air from all the trees, heavy fragrances from all the flowers, silent streams and mirrored pools everywhere. I went towards the ancient Muslim tombs in the middle of the park and as I was almost at the entrance of one an elderly gentleman said good afternoon. By this point I was used to ignoring any kind of greeting as it usually signaled intense bargaining and shouting sessions, but for some reason I answered him back and ended up sitting with him in the shade of a giant tree. We bought water from a garden water-wallah to stay hydrated in the heat and discussed the recent Indian election and the politicians. Dr. Singh was a retired ayurvedic doctor who still had a few patients in the neighbourhood. When he finished his rounds he often came to the garden to enjoy the silence. His wife had passed away 5 years earlier from cancer and he found his life to be lonely and challenging since then. He spoke of his travels to Montreal, Los Angeles, and New York for medical conventions and how much he enjoyed his job. I told him how lovely I had found Kolkata and he agreed it was a magical place. Then I told him about the beauty of Darjeeling and some of the crazy situations I had found myself in on my journeys. Then he said he wanted to show me something in Delhi that would help take away any negative feelings I had towards some of the people I had encountered.

Tombs in the middle of the Lodi Gardens. Delhi

View from inside a tomb at the Lodi Gardens. Delhi

After assessing that I could break him between my fingers if things got weird, we got in his car and drove into the city where he took me straight to the Presidential Palace. I jumped out of the car to snap some pics while he circled because he wasn’t allowed to park while I looked around.

The gates to the Presidential Palace. Delhi

Then I got back in and we turned around and headed down the main thoroughfare to India Gate.

India Gate. Delhi

We spent about an hour wandering around, watching the tourists and kids playing with kites. We had ice cream and chatted about life and what was to come. He asked if we could have our picture taken together and then we got back in the car so he could drive me back to Connaught Circle to find my little slumdog. We said goodbye and I spotted Sami almost as soon as I got out of the car with his little friend, Anil. The three of us grabbed another ice cream and sat on the side of the road as they told me about the village they came from and where they were headed in life.

As we walked back towards my hotel and the train station, we crossed the street while the crosswalk light was lit. They scampered across trying to beat the waiting cars and I lingered, enjoying that the cars were indeed stopped and I didn’t have to scoot in between them. Anil yelled back, “Madam, you must hurry!!” I told him not to worry, the cars weren’t moving, but he didn’t trust the drivers, ran back into the middle of the crosswalk, faced the cars and threw his hands out in spread-eagle fashion to make sure they didn’t start til I got to the other side. As soon as I reached the sidewalk he ran back to us and the cars were off. They were going to miss their train back to their village and jumped up into a rickshaw but not before I snapped a shot of them. These two were what I’d been looking for most of my trip and I loved that I’d finally found them at the last minute. Between Dr. Singh and these two, they certainly had given me something to find beautiful in Delhi and a truly lovely end to this latest trip to India.

Sami, on the right, was my tag-along the last day in Delhi. His little buddy, Anil, joined us at the end for an ice cream. Delhi